


My Old Friend

by 852_Prospect_Archivist



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Drama, Episode Related: sentineltoo, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 04:02:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/793756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/852_Prospect_Archivist/pseuds/852_Prospect_Archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set in the future after Sentinel Too (part one).  Blair lives but doesn't stay in Cascade.</p>
            </blockquote>





	My Old Friend

**Author's Note:**

> This is a post S2p1 story that was written before S2p2 aired. I just didn't get around to posting it till now because I didn't want to overwhelm Lily with several stories at once, for which she says . 
> 
> I'm leaving it up to the reader to decide whethr it's slash or not. 

## My Old Friend

by Tiger Moon

Author's webpage: <http://members.aol.com/ATigerMoon/fic.html>

Author's disclaimer: Pet Fly owns them, I just wish I did.

* * *

<Time: Six months after S2p1>

Simon had been out of his office all morning attending boring meetings that he'd rather not have been a part of so he wasn't surprised to find his mail sitting in the middle of his desk when he returned. He looked around suspiciously. Lately, the Cascade PD had been the recipient of a number of bomb threats, so every package had been inspected when it came into the building. This one must had passed inspection, but it didn't look like it had been opened. 

He nervously eyed the return address label anyway and heaved a sigh of relief when he saw "Dr. B.J. Sandburg". Simon chuckled when he saw the name and muttered under his breath, "So the kid did it after all. Good for him." He ripped open the box and ignored the inquisitive glances from the bullpen; his chuckle had peeked their interest. 

Peering inside, he saw bound copies of what he assumed were the kid's dissertation. He picked up the note that lay on top: 

"Simon, 

I wanted to give you and the rest of the gang a copy of my dissertation. If it hadn't been for all of you, I wouldn't have the Dr. attached to my name. 

Blair" 

Simon put the note aside and pulled out the top book and looked at the title: 

Police: A Society Within 

He shook his head, _so the kid protected Jim after all. And he didn't use the thin blue line nonsense. I wonder what surprises are in for me now?_ Opening the book to the dedication, Simon got his answer, 

"This is dedicated to my mother, Naomi, for giving me my wanderlust and insatiable thirst for knowledge. 

It is also dedicated to Captain Simon Banks and the members of the Major Crimes division of the Cascade PD for without the friendship you offered this never would have been possible. Thanks for making me part of the team, it was a hell of a ride." 

Simon closed the cover and replaced the book. He was surprised, and yet, in a way not surprised, to see the absence of Jim's name. Relations between his best detective and Blair had been strained at best. _Might as well face the music now,_ he thought, as he gathered up the box and headed out into the bullpen. 

A chorus of "What's in the box?" and "What's up?" greeted him as he walked to a desk in the centre of the room. 

"Listen up people," Simon halted, waiting until he had their full attention, "I got a box from Sandburg today," Simon halted again, waiting for the firestorm of question about, "How was he?" "Where was he?" ceased. 

He didn't miss Jim's head snap up at the mention of the kid's name. It had been almost six months to the day since Sandburg left and Jim had forbidden even the mention of the kid's name within his earshot, which as Simon knew was a long way, or at least had been. 

"Sandburg wanted me to make sure all of you got one of these. It's his dissertation." Simon chuckled, "It's Dr. Sandburg now." 

Simon made his way around the bullpen handing out the thesis; some were specially marked with post-it notes; for Megan, Rafe, Brown, and Jim. He handed Jim his last with a request that was more along the lines of an order, "This had better not end up in the trash." 

He continued on to his office, dropping the empty box in the trash on his way past. Simon sat behind his desk, propped his feet up, and with a blatant disregard for the non-smoking policy of the building, lit up a cigar and proceeded to read the dissertation. 

<~~oOo~~>

We grew up together  
as fast as we could  
Both of us angry and misunderstood  
We broke all the rules that got in our way  
not knowing or caring the price we would pay  
With the luck of the young and the will to survive  
Sometimes I'm amazed that I'm still alive  
I'd do it again, it was worth every mile  
What I'd give tonight just to see your smile  


My old friend, where are you now?  
My old friend, with fire in your heart and your head in the clouds   
My old friend  
I wish you'd come around  
I want to see you again 

<~~oOo~~>

Jim looked at the bound book in his hand. He'd stashed it in his desk drawer when Simon had given it to him. He'd been afraid to even look at the title for fear of what he'd see, afraid that he'd see the details of his life defined in excruciating detail. He was caught off balance when he read the title "Police: A Society Within." 

_So he'd done the cover thesis after all. He'd kept my secret, protected me, only there isn't a secret to keep anymore._ Jim thought as he fingered the thesis and slowly opened the cover. He wasn't sure what he was looking for, at least that's what he tried to convinced himself. He knew exactly what he was looking for. Recognition for three years of friendship. Acknowledgement, for being the one to bring him into the department. A hint of where the hell the kid had gone. 

The last time he'd seen Blair was in his hospital room, six months earlier. Their fight had brought every nurse on duty, not to mention half the Major Crimes' detectives who'd come to see Blair released from the hospital after his near death experience in the fountain. 

<~~>

Six months earlier... 

Blair stood throwing the little bit of clothing and personal items into a duffel bag that Jim had brought. He was about to do the hardest thing he'd ever done in his life, walk away from a dream, his PhD, and walk away from a friendship. He was about to leave his sentinel. 

"Come on Chief, let me take you home." Jim had almost pleaded. 

Blair refused to look at Jim, if he did he'd never be able to go, and he needed to go. He needed a fresh perspective. He needed to go someplace where he was what? Appreciated? Listened to? Not brushed off like an ignorant school kid? Simon had finally given him the words he needed to hear, but not Jim, he'd done everything but say the words, and now he was leaving. "No Jim. Dammit. You. Are. Not. Listening to me. You never listen. I am not going back to the loft." 

"I've got everything put back in place, all your stuff is just the way it was." Jim ignored what Blair was saying he was desperate to get him to at least come back to the loft. If he achieved that then he knew that they could work things out. 

"No!" Blair yelled. "Get it though you thick scull. I am not coming back. I've wasted too much of my life trailing around after you like a trained dog and I'm done. You said it yourself, 'you don't need me', so fine, I'm outta here." Blair coughed some, his energy was rapidly disappearing, and grabbed his bag and stormed from the room before it left him entirely. Pushing his way through the myriad of nurses and friends who were to stunned to follow or even try to stop him. 

<~~>

Jim reached for the beer he'd left sitting on the table, he took a long drink of the now warm liquid. He knew the very moment Blair had walked out the door that he'd grossly underestimated his friend. 

He knew without a doubt that Sandburg was the reason he was still alive or not locked up in some padded cell somewhere, going slowly out of his mind. He'd never said that to him though, had he? Instead he'd just griped and protested about all the tests the kid put him through. Not really acknowledging that they were designed to help him. 

Now of course the senses were gone. They'd shut down within a couple weeks of Blair's disappearance. Or maybe he'd just repressed them again. Knowing that he couldn't handle them without the gentle but solid presence of his guide. 

Sitting the now half empty bottle of beer back on the table, he leaned back on the sofa and closed his eyes and tried yet again to meditate, to go back to that other plane. He tried to call the panther back, he wanted his senses. He was ready to really acknowledge them and for the first time since their reappearance, he actually _wanted_ them and was ready to quit wishing for things to be the way they were before. He sighed when he had no success. 

He'd been loath to admit it then, now it smacked him every time he turned around and saw the stuff that Sandburg had left behind when he snuck into the loft while Jim was at the station and packed his clothes and vital books. He'd always been the one in control. He'd never let himself _need_ anyone. It's what had ruined his marriage to Carolyn, he hadn't needed her, and it's what ruined his friendship and partnership with Sandburg. 

But in the cold stark reality, he needed Sandburg. Not just as a lackey to do his paperwork. He needed the friendship that had been offered and given freely, while his own had come with rules and a price. He'd resisted the kid at every turn, never making it easy for him. Sandburg had said it many times, he didn't _need_ to stay with Jim, he had more than enough material for ten dissertations. He stayed because of friendship. He stayed because he wanted to. Sandburg had been right that last day \-- He, Jim Ellison, supercop, hadn't gotten it, even when it was right in front of his face. 

Jim threw the thesis down on the table. He didn't want to look at it, it's arrival had stirred up to many memories and made him look at what he didn't want to look at, namely how he'd treated his partner. 

<~~oOo~~>

My old friend, where are you now?  
My old friend, with fire in your heart and your head in the clouds   
My old friend  
I wish you'd come around  
I want to see you again 

<~~oOo~~>

<eight months after the arrival of Blair's completed dissertation>

"Jim fill me in on where you are in the murder investigation," Simon asked of the detective sitting in front of his desk. 

"Simon, we interviewed..." Jim stopped mid-sentence when a knock at the door interrupted him. 

"Hold on, Jim," Simon instructed as he waved the rookie officer in, "Yeah?" 

"Captain Banks, sir, I'm sorry to interrupt. This special delivery package arrived for you." 

"Hmmm, I wonder what he's sending now?" Simon commented to himself and to the young officer who'd delivered it, "Thank you." 

"Sir?" Jim questioned. 

Simon had momentarily forgotten that Jim had partially gotten back some of his senses, namely his hearing. 

"Something from Sandburg, undoubtedly, I wonder what he's sending now?" 

"You've been in contact with him? You didn't tell me?" Jim questioned his captain, barely covering the stab of jealousy he felt because Sandburg had been in contact with Simon and not him, not that he could blame the kid, but it still went deep. 

"Now don't go getting territorial on me. The kid sends me and Daryl stuff every so often. Cigars from Cuba, about four months ago. A letter with a picture of him in some tribal get-up from South America, last year. Something just to let me know he's alive and well. I usually drop whatever note he sends on Connor or Rafe's desk to be passed around. If it doesn't make it to your desk don't blame me." Simon knew that the letters had by-passed Jim's desk, by the sheer fact that they returned to his own desk. He knew his best detective would never have returned them if they had found their way to his desk. It wasn't hard to guess that the rest of the detectives in the Major Crimes division partially blamed Jim for Sandburg's disappearance. For as much as they kidded the kid they all really liked and respected him. And now missed him. 

Using the letter opener, Simon cut through the tape holding the box together and pulled out the long letter that lay on top. 

"Simon, 

I finally finished the book. I turned all the sentinel research into a fiction novel. I figured it would be safer for Jim that way. Anyway, you know, who would believe that someone like this really existed? 

I signed copies for everyone, could you pass them out for me? 

I'm finally someplace where I can be reached, in a way. I've been in Hawaii for the past several months. I joined this group that spends time on Kauai at a dig site where the ancient Hawaiians buried their chiefs. Man Simon, you should see some of the things I've seen. You know how I hate helicopters, well I took this one ride that about did me in but it was worth the sight. A full outrigger canoe, hundreds of feet off the ground in a cave. 

We're excavating at the base of those cliffs to bring the artefacts that have come out of the caves back to the Museum of Hawaiian Antiquities. I get to do some teaching at the local high schools to tell them about the things that we've found. 

I'll probably be here through the summer and into the fall. You can either reach me or leave a message at 808-672-6094. 

Blair" 

Simon handed the newsy letter to Jim as he pulled out the top hardbound book. The cover was a Peruvian temple and a panther. He moved the post-it that declared it his copy to read the title -- "Five Senseless Murders." 

Jim saw the cover and before Simon could even open the book, he'd snatched it out of his hand, "What the hell?" 

"Calm down Jim, it's fiction, Sandburg said as much in his letter." 

"You knew?" Jim asked still stunned to see what had been his life as the topic of a book. 

"I knew he was thinking about it, yes. Read his letter, Jim, really read it." 

Before Jim could comment, Connor appeared at the door, "Sir, is that from Sandy? We're all rather curious when we saw it arrive." 

Simon turned to his visiting inspector who'd never gone home, "Yeah, Connor, here, take it and make sure every one gets theirs." Simon pulled the next copy out for Jim. 

Jim opened his mouth to speak but was stopped short by Simon's raised hand, "Jim I can't give you any answers. There is only one person who can do that and right at this moment we know where he is." 

"Simon, can I..." 

"Jim I'm giving you two weeks vacation, now get out." 

Simon watched as Jim headed out of the office, stopping briefly to take his coat before heading to the elevator. He considered for a moment calling the kid to warn him that Jim was on the way, but changed his mind. It was time they work this out on their own. 

Simon nodded to Connor as she stuck her head in the door, "Captain, is he?" 

"Yes." A one-word answer was all that was needed. 

"Good!" And she turned and headed back to her desk. 

<~~oOo~~>

Driving the back roads, chasing the moon  
Sometimes we wouldn't get home until noon  
Whispering secrets, singing out loud  
There were so many mysteries we wondered about  
With nothing to lose and no one to blame  
Dancing like fools in the Florida rain  
Searching for truth and questioning why  
I remember the night you said good-bye 

My old friend, where are you now?  
My old friend, making me laugh when life brought me down  
Old friend  
I wish you'd come around  
My old friend  
I want to see you again. 

<~~oOo~~>

Jim, from the shadows, watched the compact body of his friend as he worked. The kid was tanned, and a lot more muscular than Jim remembered. It was odd to see him in a tank top and cargo shorts, he'd only ever seen him in the layers of flannel he always wore in Cascade. Blair was bent over and took a quick swipe at the dirt with what looked like a paintbrush. It looked like tedious and painstakingly slow work, he didn't know how Sandburg could be so still or even quiet for so long. 

Finally, some of the others were packing up and moving back down the trail toward the beach where their main camp was located. Jim didn't have to guess that the single tent not far from the dig site was Blair's. It figured that he wouldn't want to leave the site. 

_It's was now or never,_ Jim thought, and he came out of the shadows, from where he'd been watching and walked up behind his...behind Sandburg, dropping the book in the dirt in front of him, "You didn't personalise it." 

Blair startled and launched himself out of the red dirt, "Jim! Hey. Wow. Oh Man. You are _so_ not the person I expected to see out here." He wiped his hands nervously on the soft cotton of his shorts, leaving reddish stains, where his hands made contact with the cloth. 

Jim leaned down and picked up the book holding it in front of Blair again, "I wanted my book personalised." 

Blair recognised an obfuscation when he heard one, he was after all, a master at telling them. "You mean you came all the way out here just to have me sign a book? You could have waited, I'm due to go back into the museum next week." He didn't mention the fact that Jim should have gotten special permission to come out to the site, or about the day hike inland to just reach the site as there was no other way to get here. The 11 mile trail that wound up and down the steep hills along the coast ended about three valleys to the east. 

"You're right, I could have waited but I didn't want to." Jim stopped for a moment before continuing with the most revealing reason why he came, "I wanted to see you." He held out his hand to Blair as if to shake hands with his friend but as soon as he felt the cool dirt encrusted hand in his, he pulled the younger man into a bone-crunching hug. 

Blair was surprised by Jim's unexpected show of emotion and went with it for a moment before he was forced to pat Jim, "Jim, man, I can't breathe." 

"Sorry, Chief," Jim muttered as he released Blair. 

"No problem, man." Blair assured him before nodding at the backpack, "I take it you're staying?" 

"Do you mind?" Jim hesitated, waiting for the answer he was hoping for. 

"Of course not." He watched as Jim moved away and went to pick up his backpack. 

"Where's everyone else stay?" Jim finally asked looking around. 

Blair just shrugged, "Give some of the willies to stay this close so there is a main camp back the trail some. They're spooked by the Hua Ka`i Po." 

"In English, Chief." 

"The 'Night Marchers'. Ghost Warriors who march throughout the Islands. Some people say they are only a legend but others say they are real. The thing is that when you see them you have to move out of their way, and quick. And since a lot of what we are finding along these cliffs belong to the Alii, some of the students are getting spooked by the legends." Blair explained. 

"But not you?" 

"Naa, If you respect the beliefs of the people you are working with and around. You learn their legends and myths, and can better understand them, and not be scared. Besides, I spent three years living with a myth..." 

Jim chuckled as they set to work preparing camp, Blair was surprised how well they fell into their old pattern of working together wordlessly, knowing what the other needed done. He was a little disconcerted by this at first. It had been nearly eighteen months since they had been roommates, friends, and they fell into the same old pattern as if he'd only been gone a few months. 

They played catch up as they cooked their respective dinners. Blair had learned from some of the Hawaiian students how to cook in a pit, and found it quite efficient for cooking his vegetables, including some of his new favourite foods, including taro. He even managed to convince Jim to try the odd purple plant. 

Jim gave him a run down on everyone at the station including the fact that Megan had asked to remain in the US and work for the Cascade PD instead of going back to Sydney. In turn he regaled Jim with stories about his vagabond life style and projects he'd worked on over the past two years. 

They fell silent and watched the fire that lit their immediate surrounding, staying off the blackness of the night that surround them. Blair thought about their conversation over dinner and realised how much of themselves they had shared without even thinking twice, and just how much was revealed. He'd known that he'd been like a ship adrift with no anchor. What he'd failed to recognise, or acknowledge, was who and where his anchor had been. 

Finally, it was time to talk, they had exhausted every subject they could come up with to avoid the conversation they both knew they needed to have. 

Jim broke the silence, "Why did you leave?" he asked, looking into his cup of coffee. 

Blair swallowed, "You know why." 

Jim looked into the eyes of his once guide and partner, "Tell me again. I didn't hear you last time, I didn't want to. I do now." 

Blair took a deep breath before answering, he knew that this time he could explain it to Jim without the immediate anger of the situation when he'd left the first time, "The truth?" He watched as Jim nodded before continuing, "I was tired of not being listened to. Tired of not being taken seriously, just because I was a student with long hair and earrings. I had something to offer but no one wanted to hear it." 

"We did hear it and appreciate it," Jim interrupted. 

"But you never said the words, Jim. You know me I need words. I did then, I do now." Blair hated admitting that he needed the verbal validation for what he did. It was a weakness that he could never seem to get rid of and it always seemed to rear its ugly head when he didn't want it to. Usually around Jim and when he needed to be confident about what he was telling his sentinel. But since he had no experience to draw from he was flying by the seat of his pants most of the time, with his brain barely moving faster than his mouth as he tried to come up with a reason for something happening. Jim never understood that. Jim never understood that he needed to be told that what he was doing/saying was okay and made sense. 

"I'm sorry," Jim said softly looking away from Blair. 

"What?" Blair wasn't sure he'd heard correctly. 

"I said, I'm sorry. I'm sorry I never said how much I appreciated your friendship. I tried to show you in every way I could but I never said the words and for that I am sorry." 

Blair looked at him almost disbelieving. He was about to make a sarcastic comment and ask what had happened to the real Jim Ellison, thinking the pod people had him. But he saw the look on Jim's face and bit the words back before they spilled out. Instead all he said was "Thank you." 

Their silence was filled by the wind in the trees, the river rushing over rocks and the crackling of the fire. Gecko's chirped out their songs then were silenced as a light rain began to fall. Jim and Blair quickly stood and moved anything important into Blair's tent. 

"Ouch!" Jim cried out unexpectently. 

"Jim, man, are you okay? Did you run into something?" Blair questioned in rapid-fire succession. 

"No, the rain. It stung. Can't you feel it?" Jim countered just before there was a sudden explosion in his ears that caused him to double over in pain, clutching his ears. 

Blair recognised the sensory spike for what it was and immediately knelt behind Jim with his hand on Jim's back and fell immediately into guide mode and began the quiet even mantra of instruction, "It's okay, Jim, dial it down. Come on big guy, see the dial and turn it down. One at a time, turn them down." He repeated it over and over again until he could feel the muscles in Jim's back begin to relax. 

Jim finally looked up. "I'm okay, now." He stated briefly, before continuing, "Thanks." 

Blair sat back once he was convinced Jim was okay, "What happened your senses go haywire?" 

"You could say that. They just all came back." 

"What do you mean, 'they all came back'?" Blair questioned. 

"I said they all came back, as in they were gone and they suddenly just all came back on-line." Jim retorted sharply. 

Blair smiled in spite of himself, the real Jim Ellison had returned. 

"Sandburg, why are you smiling? I figured I'd be in for hours of grilling because of that little revelation. Instead you're just standing there smiling." 

Blair laughed, "I was just beginning to wonder what the pod people had done with you, but I can see you're back." 

Jim couldn't help to laugh with Blair. "Jerk." He picked up a wad of red dirt by his feet and threw it at Sandburg. 

They sat there, two grown men, in the red dirt laughing like children. 

<~~oOo~~>

For all that running 'round  
I'm glad to be back in my how town  
And if I knew back then what I know now I do it again, it was worth every mile  
What I'd give tonight Just to see your smile My old friend... 

Wish you'd come around... 

<~~oOo~~>

Simon sat at his desk trying to look busy while he watched his best detective. Four weeks ago Jim returned after two weeks in Hawaii with Sandburg looking tanned, relaxed, all of his senses back on-line, and not saying a word as to what happened and whether or not the kid was coming back. 

He'd tried to call Sandburg, himself, leaving message after message, but the kid wasn't returning his calls. Not that, it wasn't business as usual where Sandburg was concerned. However, he was practically busting with curiosity, as was the rest of the department. 

A disturbance in the bullpen broke his contemplation. He looked up to see Jim shaking hands with Sandburg just before pulling him into a hug. The rest of the Major Crimes Division crowded around the partners. Simon shook his head, _Guess I have my answer as to what happened in Hawaii._

He came around his desk and started speaking before he was even completely through his office door, "Sandburg! It's about time you got your sorry butt back here." 

Blair grinned, "That's Dr Sandburg to you." He retorted. 

Simon reached out like he was going to cuff the anthropologist on the back of the head, but instead pulled him into a hug, "Welcome back, Sandburg." 

**FINIS**

Author's note: The Hawaiian facts I mentioned are real. I have heard people talk about the helo tours around the NaPali coast and valleys and seeing the outrigger canoes hundreds of feet in the air. Some of it I fudged for literary value, but not much. It was fun to pull out my trail map and look through it, nice memories. If you've never been to Kauai, go rent Jurassic Park and look at the outdoor scenery, that's all Kauai and the rugged coastline is the NaPali coast. My spirit found it's home during the years I lived in Hawaii and although I was born elsewhere, Hawaii will always be my home. 


End file.
